ANXIETIES
"My dear doctor, your talents are wasted in San Mateo. They should be
employed in the larger field of diplomacy," said Steele Weir, when on
his arrival from Terry Creek he was apprised of what had occurred
during his absence.
"From all indications I shall have full opportunity for their use
hereafter, whatever they may be, in our own bailiwick," Doctor
Hosmer replied, smiling. "There's more going on in our village,
apparently, than in many a small kingdom. I merely had Janet use the
truth with certain limitations, and there's no wiser course when
part of the facts are known. Sorenson seemed quite satisfied with her
explanation."
The colloquy resulted from a meeting between Janet and the cattleman
while Weir was guiding the young physician, summoned from Bowenville,
to Johnson's ranch. Sorenson had appeared at the house about ten
o'clock that morning desiring to see the girl. They had talked
together on the veranda, where the visitor stated he had effected a
settlement and obtained an acknowledgment from Martinez, who was
trying to blackmail him and others; that a certain paper had been
prepared by the lawyer for use in the disreputable business; that the
man had said he had asked Janet to secure it from an old chair in his
office; and he wished to learn if she had done so.
Janet had admitted such to be the case.
"It was odd Mr. Martinez should telephone me to go get it, wasn't it?"
she had asked. "But I went, and there it was stuffed in the lining of
the chair."
"You have it then?" Sorenson stated, with a sigh of relief and his
eyes kindling with eagerness.
"No, I haven't it now."
"What in heaven's name did you do with it?" he asked.
"As I was coming out of Mr. Martinez' office, there at the door was
Ed. He had seen me go in and so stopped his car before the door; after
a time he took the paper to see what it was."
"Then you didn't see its contents?"
"No; I didn't even open it."
"And he has it?"
"He had it the last I saw of the paper. He read it. First, he was
going to burn it up because it made him angry, then he changed his
mind, saying he would take it to show to you, as he thought you would
be interested. Is there anything else you wish to know, Mr.
Sorenson?"
"Where did he go from there?"
"He drove away. From something he said, I judged that he planned to be
away from home several days."
Revolting as it was to Janet to put so fair a face on Ed Sorenson's
conduct, nevertheless she had braced herself to go through with the
part and presented to the cattleman a clear, natural countenance. The
very simplicity of her story, its directness, its accord with the
facts as he knew them, carried conviction. Innocently drawn into the
affair, she had, in his view, been quickly guided out again by Ed's
luck and wit.
Ed had the deadly document. The four men concerned might breathe
easily once more. Ed himself, in all probability, did not realize the
true menace of old Saurez' deposition, or he would at once have
brought it to him instead of continuing on his trip: the boy no doubt
thought it sufficient to keep it until he returned or mailed it back
from somewhere; he perhaps had taken it along for a more careful
reading. Good boy, anyway. He had got possession of the thing, that
was the main consideration.
"He told me too that he was leaving last evening for a few days'
jaunt," Sorenson said, rising to go. "You'll likely have a whole
basketful of letters from him. Finest boy going, Ed, even if it's his
own father who says it. But he's the lucky one, Janet." The girl
lowered her eyelids, for at this flattery she felt she could no longer
dissemble her feelings. "Sorry to have bothered you about the matter,"
he concluded. "Fellows like this Martinez are always making us
trouble. Run over and eat dinner with us soon."
He went down the walk, large, dominant and still with a trace of
his early cowman's walk. Both his step and his erectness bespoke
the buoyant effect of the talk upon his spirits, which was not to
be wondered at as he had splendid news to import to his confrères
in crime. They would get rid of Martinez, destroy the paper when
Ed delivered it, and their skeleton--this one (of a number) which
had unexpectedly kicked the door open and started to dance in
public--would be safely locked up forever. For Saurez, the only
witness (as they believed) was now dead: he would make no more
depositions. Certainly Sorenson had reason to walk briskly away
from Doctor Hosmer's dwelling.
Janet had somberly watched him till he was out of sight, then had gone
inside.
"I don't see how I ever imagined him an honorable man," she said to
her father. "For all his pretended politeness he was ready if
necessary to bully me. One thing he can't ever say is that I didn't
tell him exact facts; what I omitted was the circumstances giving rise
to the facts." And her father, who now knew from Weir the story of the
happening of thirty years before, assured her that she need be
troubled over no moral hairsplitting.
The incident, as Steele Weir perceived, diverted both suspicion and
danger from Janet, at least for a time. A big gain that. And he was
impressed by the subtle sagacity of the maneuver.
"That wasn't just a clever move, it was a flash of genius," he told
father and daughter. Then after a few minutes more of talk he said:
"Now I must be running up to the dam. To-day is Sunday and the works
are quiet, so if I find everything all right I shall strike back
immediately for Terry Creek and the cabin up above. I want to make a
search for that paper by daylight."
"After your hard night?" Janet exclaimed. "I snatched some sleep when
we had done talking last night, but father says you and he had none.
You can't make that terrible ride again without rest!"
"Missing a night in bed is nothing new," he laughed. "Once or twice in
my life I've not had my clothes off in a week, and only such cat-naps
as I could steal meantime. But I'll not boast of that; your father
probably has gone longer periods without sleep, or with only broken
rest, than ever I did. Most doctors do. Be sure and let me know if
anything new occurs."
But if Weir's mind was put at ease so far as Janet was concerned, he
had more than enough other cares to burden his thoughts. The loss of
the deposition, chief of all; then the matter of effecting Martinez'
release, wherever he was immured; and finally, as he learned from
Meyers and Atkinson on reaching camp, the insidious promise of trouble
in the "free whiskey party."
"Perhaps whoever supplied the fire-water underestimated this
copper-lined crew's capacity and didn't furnish enough," Meyers
suggested. "Nobody was really drunk last night and here it is nearly
noon, with the men all hanging about camp. If there was whiskey yet to
be had, some of these thirsty, rollicking scrappers of ours would be
right back at the spigot this morning."
"Maybe so," Atkinson admitted. "Seems so--and yet I ain't easy in my
mind. The men don't act right; they behave as if they're just waiting;
they're restless and not a man could I get to open his mouth about
where they found the stuff. If there wasn't to be any more, they would
have told and tried to kid me. They appear to me as if just biding
their time. Some men weren't gone, of course, those who don't drink.
They stayed in the bunk-house and they know nothing."
"We'll go on the supposition then that there will be more coming, and
act accordingly," Weir stated, at once. "Watch them close, and put up
a warning that men who are not at work in the morning, or who bring
booze into camp, will be fired."
"That's the trouble," the superintendent declared. "I don't think they
brought a drop in except in their skins. And as we say, they weren't
drunk. There's not a thing we can object to and they know it; somebody
has put 'em wise how to act. Here they are, sober this morning,
behaving themselves, and so on. We can't keep men from going for a
walk if they want to; we can't string barb-wire around the camp and
hold them in; we can't even say they can't touch a bottle if a
stranger offers them one when they're on the outside."
"But we can hold up the consequences if they go on a spree," Steele
replied. "Most of them are satisfied with the work and pay and grub;
they don't want to go."
"No, but they like whiskey too, free whiskey in particular. They would
say they're not getting drunk--no man ever really expects to when he
starts drinking--and talk about their 'rights.' There are two or three
fellows in camp now who are doing a lot of mouthing about labor's
rights; I. W. W.'s, I'd say. Shouldn't be surprised if they were the
ring-leaders."
"If more whiskey comes, we must beat them to it."
"That's my notion," Atkinson said, with a nod. "I didn't locate the
booze fountain last night, but I did this morning. Took a horse at
daylight and rode along the hills; about a mile south in some trees at
the foot of the mountain, I came across a case of empty bottles and a
keg half-full of water. That was all, but it showed where the
'birthday party' was."
"That's the place to watch, then. Better send a trusty man there to
report to us immediately if he sees signs of a supply arriving for
to-night. Half a dozen of us with axes will soon start a temperance
wave in that locality."
In accordance with this instruction the superintendent dispatched a
reliable man to maintain guard at the spot; and Weir, feeling that all
had been done that was possible under the circumstances, gave his
attention to other matters.
But he perceived that with this "liquor attack" in the air, for it was
but another of his enemies' moves against him, of course, directed
with the purpose of creating internal disorder, he must postpone his
trip to the headwaters of Terry Creek. Knowing the crafty,
persistent, conscienceless character of the four men inspiring the
trick, he was under no delusion that the "free whiskey" would end with
a single case of bottles. Among three hundred men that would amount to
but two or three drinks apiece--a mere taste, only a teaser. And
because it was only a teaser, the men would want more. If he could
carry them over this idle Sunday sober, they would be at work on the
morrow and the chief danger be passed.
Unfortunately a manager cannot take his workmen into his confidence in
such a case and explain the nature of such a cunning attack; the thing
was too complex, and their untutored minds would fail to perceive if
they did not actually reject the explanation, in jealousy for their
"rights" concluding that they were being hoodwinked. By very
perverseness they would refuse to deny themselves a free gift of
whiskey.
With Pollock, however, whose interest as a director was vital, he
could talk in full expectation of being understood. And moreover,
owing to the entangled condition into which the company's and his own
personal affairs had come, strict honor required that he inform his
visitor of the entire situation and offer, if in the director's view
such action would best serve the company's ends, to resign.
In his office immediately after dinner he gave the easterner a
complete account of happenings in San Mateo since his arrival as
manager, with a statement of his father's earlier residence here, of
the fraud practiced by Sorenson and his companions on him and his
tragically ruined life.
"This, you see, has resulted not only in bringing the animosity of
these men against me but in aggravating their hostility to the
company," he concluded. "I've never been a quitter. It would go sorely
against the grain with me to quit now while under fire. But my own
feelings or fortunes should have no weight; the company's interests
alone are to be considered. I shall turn over the management to Meyers
and retire if you desire; I count my contract not binding upon your
board under the circumstances."
Pollock arose and began to pace the office, gently beating the air
with his eye-glasses and thoughtfully regarding the floor.
"I should not do your remarkable story proper justice if I did not
give it the serious attention it deserves," he said, after a time.
"Certain aspects of the case would appear to favor our accepting
your resignation, but on analysis, Weir, they turn out to be aspects
only, not real arguments. Assuming the facts are as you relate, which
I personally don't doubt, these men, if they will stop at nothing
to injure you, will be no more reluctant to injure us. In fact, if
you withdrew they would feel that they had gained a distinct
triumph, forced us to yield to their will, and would be inspired to
further and greater opposition. Personal hatred for you on their
part is no ground for their fixing their enmity on the company. But
that enmity, apparently, already existed before you came. Therefore if
they hate you likewise, you and our company have a common bond. And
that assures us of one thing, or several things: your vigilance,
care of company property, and loyalty. Last, and aside from that,
you are, I am confident, possessed of the exact qualities essential to
the successful solution of present difficulties. We prefer as manager
an energetic, determined, fighting man, however much disliked by
envious neighbors, to some fellow less firm and more inclined to
conciliation. The latter never gained anything with out-and-out
foes, from what I've seen. So you perceive, Weir, that when my
associates and I get into a row we're not quitters either. We shall
therefore just dismiss all talk of your resignation."
"Very good; I wanted you to know the facts."
Pollock paced to and fro for a time longer.
"What really interests me is your own fight," he remarked at length.
"If the paper you spoke of should be found, I would be pleased to have
it translated for you. I should also like to consult with this man
Martinez; he seems a clever fellow. You expect to settle with this
quartet who defrauded your father, of course."
"Certainly. But the money isn't the main thing. For no amount of money
would ever pay for the wrong done my father. I want to make these men
suffer, suffer as he suffered. Call it a simple desire for revenge if
you will; that's what it really is. They robbed him of his future as
well as of his ranch and cattle. They took away hope and implanted in
his breast terror and remorse wholly undeserved. But for them he might
have been a happy, prosperous, well-thought of man in this state. Yes,
revenge is what I want, not money. Revenge that will be for them an
equivalent of hell."
"But they should pay the legal penalties of their crime as well," the
lawyer spoke. "Recovery of the original amounts gained by fraud from
both your father and this man Dent, and accumulated interest as well
as damages, should be had. In all it should make a large amount."
"I suppose so. Probably enough to clean the four men out. But though
of course I should enjoy getting the property or money that was
rightfully my father's and now mine, still I'd let that go if I could
secure the satisfaction of making the four men pay in the coin I
want."
"Don't be a fool, Weir. Don't overlook any bets, as the saying is.
Taking their property away from them will but add to their pain and to
your pleasure. Now we must see if Dent's heirs can be found. I suggest
that you employ some good attorney to start a hunt along that line,
for an action by Dent's relatives will indirectly strengthen your own
case. I'm doubtful about one thing, however----"
"What is that?"
"Your courts here, and the value of this old Mexican's deposition. The
case could be brought in a Federal Court as you're a non-resident,
which would solve the first point, but how much weight would this
Mexican's testimony have against white men of standing and after a
period of thirty years. If you could find another witness----"
"There was one, a white boy, so Martinez hinted," Weir said.
"Find him, find him. Search the whole country until you find him!"
"That's a big undertaking, when I don't even know his name or whether
he's alive."
"Begin nevertheless."
"Well, I had better find my lost paper or secure another statement
from old Saurez first. At present I have absolutely nothing that a
court would look at; I haven't as much as I had yesterday. And even
Martinez has been spirited away."
Pollock smiled.
"I'm interested, greatly interested," he said. "I'm not actively
engaged in legal affairs at home and I may stay on here awhile longer.
Perhaps I can assist you; it promises excitement, at any rate. After
dry corporation matters, it should be a refreshing change--and I
haven't had a real vacation in years. Possibly this is the time to
take one."
"I appreciate your kindness in speaking so, Mr. Pollock."
"But I'm quite selfish; I'm seeking entertainment. And your peppery
affairs promise it. Do you give me permission to take a hand?"
"Gladly."
"Then as a beginning I'll go to town. Saurez, you say, was the old
Mexican's name? And give me the facts again as you know them about the
affair of your father and the man Dent in the saloon."
Pollock listened closely as Steele Weir repeated the story.
"That's all I know, and it's meager at best," the engineer concluded.
"Pity you didn't get to read the deposition, which would have
increased your fund of information. More unfortunate it is that you
haven't the paper itself. But we'll do the best we can without it for
the present. Kindly have some one drive me in to San Mateo."
"Atkinson, the superintendent, is going there for me. I thought he
might pick up something of Martinez' whereabouts."
"Where does Judge Gordon live?"
"I can't tell you that. But you can easily learn when you reach
town."
"Well, the Judge used to handle company matters, you know." The smile
on Pollock's lips was inscrutable. "I used to have frequent
conferences with him when I was here at the inception of our project.
He is very shrewd in certain ways, but he impressed me as being not
exactly--what shall I say?--'cold steel', for instance." And still
wearing the thin smile, he went out.
If Weir had not had so many things to make his mind grave, from a
missing paper and a missing lawyer to mysterious whiskey and fierce
enemies, he would have leaned back and laughed.